


Alone Time

by spn_wincest_etc (babybrotherdean)



Series: Prompt Fills [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Absurdly Large Sex Toys, Bad Dragon Dildos, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sam doesn't know how to knock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3385283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/spn_wincest_etc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s so focused on what he’s doing that he doesn’t hear the key turning in the door, and he doesn’t hear it opening. He doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until he hears his brother’s voice.</p><p>
  <i>”Dean?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone Time

**Author's Note:**

> _So like if I wanted sam walkng in on dean with an exceptionally large (i mean really huge uvu) dildo halfway up his ass, and his following reaction you could do that? Like sam was supposed to be at the library and dean was gonna have alone time?_
> 
> Anon request! Thank you for giving me an excuse to write porn and research fucking enormous dildos. Enjoy!

Dean waits a good ten minutes after Sam leaves to make sure he’s not coming back anytime soon. That’s when he finally lets himself relax, locks the door, checks the salt lines, and he realizes he’s stalling by the time he’s considering starting to clean up some of the laundry that’s scattered around.

He takes a moment to take a deep breath and steel himself. This is what he’s been waiting for, he reminds himself. It’s not often he gets time apart from his brother, but Sam’s probably going to spend the whole day holed up in the library chasing after some monster they’ve been hearing rumours about, and this is his chance.

Even now, he remembers how hard it was just to order the damn thing. Ordering anything off the internet is a pain in the ass when you live out of a car and an endless string of skeevy motels, and it wasn’t like he wanted to ship it to Bobby. In the end, though, it was his only option, and Dean doesn’t have the words to express how thankful he is for discreet packaging and the fact that Bobby’s good at figuring out when he shouldn’t ask questions.

But he’s finally here. Dean checks the door one last time before heading to his duffle, digging down past his clothes and the couple books he keeps inside to the package right at the bottom, pulls it out with an awed sort of cautiousness.

The package itself is unassuming, but its size has Dean needing to pause again, take another deep breath. He’s not scared so much as he is excited, his stomach twisting with anticipation.

By the time he gets it properly unwrapped, his hands are shaking a little bit, and he takes a long moment to just admire the thing.

In hindsight, Dean can’t even remember how he’d stumbled onto Bad Dragon. Probably through a porn site or something. But once he started looking at all the models they offered- the sheer sizes alone were astonishing; he almost wanted to grab himself a can of coke to see if the photos they provided were accurate- he’d caught himself bookmarking and adding to his guest cart and drooling over the fantasies he was coming up with. 

His search for length and girth had led him to Chance the Stallion- extra large, “thoroughly bred”- and he can’t say he’s disappointed. The thing is the size of his fucking forearm, and the idea of what he’s going to do with it…

He gets frustrated with his long it takes to find the bottle of lube stashed in a secret inner pocket of his bag. He’s hard already, aching in his jeans, and as soon as his fingers close around the little bottle, he’s taking it and the dildo and heading straight to his bed.

It’s not like it’s the first time Dean’s done this- he’s gotten into the habit of using his fingers, fucking himself on them when he gets off, now, in the shower, mostly- but this is the first time he’s actually taken the time to do it properly, to treat himself to something like this. He shucks his pants quickly, boxers and shirt and socks not far behind. Slicking his fingers is a practised motion, and he positions himself on his back, bringing one knee up to his chest to spread himself open wide.

Even now, after so much practice, his breath hitches when he brushes his fingertips over his rim. He’s better at this now, though, and it’s just a matter of relaxing before he can slip his finger inside, lets out a soft, breathy moan at the feeling. 

Dean works up a rhythm for himself pretty quickly, pumps his finger in and out until he’s ready for another one. He slips the second one inside, the third not long after.

He considers continuing, but then glances at the dildo. Its size hits him hard again, and he bites his lip before carefully working in a fourth.

He spends a while making sure he’s good and loose, lubed up as deep as he can get. As much as he tries to keep it clinical, he can’t resist the urge to brush over his prostate on a couple passes, doesn’t even try to stifle the moans that escape.

It’s too much, after a while, and he pulls his fingers out, fumbles for the dildo and uses possibly too much lube on the thing, takes a moment to consider himself before sitting up on his knees. He takes the dildo and sits it up straight, has to stretch up as tall as he can before he can get it positioned comfortably, the massive, blunt tip of it at his entrance.

Dean takes a slow, deep breath, focusing on staying relaxed, before he starts lowering himself down.

It’s huge. It’s fucking _huge_ , is all he can think at first. He’s not sure it’s even going to fit, but then the head breaches him and his breath hitches at the pleasure of it. It’s a little easier after that, and it’s not hard to ignore the faint stretching sensation in favour of focusing on the pleasure of being so damn _full_.

Dean’s gasping and whimpering with every inch farther he goes, stretched impossibly wide, and he imagines he can feel every vein, every ridge, every detail of the fake cock. He’s so focused on what he’s doing that he doesn’t hear the key turning in the door, and he doesn’t hear it opening. He doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until he hears his brother’s voice.

_”Dean?”_

Dean stops cold, dildo halfway in, and slowly, painstakingly turns his head towards the door. Sam’s frozen, the door half-open behind him, and, rather irrationally, Dean’s first thought is that anyone could walk by and see.

"C-close the fucking _door_ , Jesus,” he manages, his voice far too breathy for his liking.

Sam looks like he’s frozen in shock, but he shakes himself out of it, pushes the door closed behind him. “You… I…”

Absurdly, Dean can’t bring himself to cover himself up at all. All he can think about is that he worked really damn hard to get this far, and that this was supposed to be _his_ alone time, and it’s not fair that it’s been interrupted like this. ”You- you’re supposed to be at the library.”

Sam can’t seem to tear his eyes away, and Dean squirms a little under his scrutiny, which only results in impaling himself farther on the dildo. He whimpers, and his brother’s eyes darken.

"Found what I needed. Thought you might be interested." Sam doesn’t look particularly interested in the case right now, though, closes the distance between himself and the bed in three long steps.

Dean can’t move, watches his brother with wide eyes and hitched breath. “Sam- you- what the fuck are you doing?”

"This why you were so eager for me to leave, Dean?" Sam’s voice has dropped to a decibel that Dean hasn’t heard before, and it makes him shiver. "Thought you wanted to stay here to avoid research. Didn’t think you’d want to do it so you could fuck yourself."

Dean swallows hard, breath coming fast and shallow. Sam’s at the edge of the bed, now, rests one knee on it so he’s closer to Dean. “Never would’ve taken you for sure a size queen.” He tilts his head a little, eyes drifting down. Dean can feel his gaze like a physical sensation. “Don’t stop on my account.”

"Sam…" It comes out like a slightly choked moan, the words going straight to his cock. This shouldn’t be okay. This should be wrong wrong _wrong_ , his brother talking like this, looking like this, but Dean doesn’t care. Not now, not when it feels so damn good to let himself slip down another inch. 

Sam doesn’t look away for a second, doesn’t flinch. His hands move down to the front of his jeans, and Dean’s eyes are locked on them, watching as his brother pulls out his cock. He bites his lip when he realizes that Sam’s just as hard as he is, wet at the tip.

"You think you can take it all, Dean?" Sam sounds breathless now, too, grips his cock with one hand. "How much can you fit in that pretty little hole of yours?"

And fuck, but Dean can’t stand this. can’t stand the rough voice, the dirty words spilling from his baby brother’s mouth. He presses down more, and he’s wondering, too, wondering how much more he can take. He feels so damn full already, and there’s still a few inches left.

Sam must see the hesitation in his eyes, because he inches closer. “You can do it,” he murmurs. “I know you can, Dean. You just gotta relax, and you can do it. Just take the whole thing. Maybe we’ll be able to feel it here.” He reaches forward, presses his hand low on Dean’s stomach.

Dean whimpers at that, the touch like fire on his skin. “Sam- Sam, please-” And he doesn’t know what he’s asking for, but he needs it bad.

"Just keep going," Sam soothes. He’s stroking himself in earnest now, hand moving fast and smooth on his cock. "You can take it, baby, just keep going."

Dean just nods, swallows hard and keeps going. He’s pretty sure he’s going to feel the thing at the back of his throat by the time it’s all the way in, but Sam keeps talking him through it, whispering soothingly.

"Look so pretty like this, baby, all stretched open. Think you can come just like this, Dean? Bet you don’t even need to touch your dick, huh?"

Dean’s barely processing the individual words. He can’t quite make his eyes settle, flickering between Sam’s face and where his hand is moving on his cock. He can’t help but wonder how Sam’s cock would feel where the dildo is right now. Another couple inches and then- 

He’s done. He’s fully seated, the dildo wedged as deep into his body as it can get, and his eyes are blown wide, looking at Sam, waiting for- for _something_.

"Good boy," Sam whispers, and that’s it, that’s what Dean needs, and he lets out a soft whine, twists himself a little on the dildo. Sam’s hand is a blur on his cock, and Dean knows his brother’s getting close, can hear it in the hitch of his breath and the tenseness in his shoulders. "Fuck yourself, Dean, wanna see you come just from this."

Dean barely manages to nod, lifts himself up slowly before sliding back down, repeats the motion. He’s watching Sam the whole time, eyes glazed but managing to focus intently on his brother’s cock.

The next time he slides down, he angles himself just right so that the dildo drags across his prostate, and he cries out, clenches around it.

"Feels good, huh?" Sam’s breathless, cheeks flushed. "C’mon, big brother. Want to see you come for me, Dean."

Dean rolls his hips hard and that’s _it_ , he’s gone, comes with a low moan of Sam’s name as he shoots all over Sam’s shirt. He’s still fucking himself, moving more frantically now, riding out his orgasm as long as possible.

He barely notices when Sam comes, too, might not have at all if it weren’t for the warm come that splatters his chest, his stomach. Sam’s moaning, too, he thinks, and Dean hears his name mingled in with the nonsensical sounds.

When he finally comes down, Dean’s more than a little worn out. He slowly, carefully pulls himself up off of the dildo, can’t help the slightly distressed sound he makes when he’s free of its girth and left clenching around empty air. Sam’s there, though, grabs him by the arms and lowers him gently to the bed. 

Sam’s gone for a moment, then, but he’s back with a warm cloth afterwards, and Dean’s barely awake enough to feel his brother wiping him clean, mumbles a vague protest at the feeling of the cloth gently wiping at his sore rim.

"You okay?" Sam murmurs, taking off his shirt and jeans before crawling into bed and pulling Dean in close. "That, uh… that was a big dick you were usin’."

Dean can’t help but laugh at that, even as he feels his cheeks heat up. “M’okay.” He pauses, then, thoughtful. “We’re gonna have to talk about this, aren’t we?”

"Sleep." Sam smiles a little bit and presses a kiss to Dean’s forehead. "We can talk later."

Dean decides that he absolutely loves the sound of that, manages a nod before yawning and curling up close to his brother. “Night,” he mumbles, disregards the fact that it’s the middle of the afternoon.

He feels Sam’s chuckle as much as he hears it. “Night, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked it! If you're interested in requests, hit me up at allywriteswords.tumblr.com.


End file.
